


A New Man

by Severina



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Community: tv-universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3209807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He needs to impress Emma, and leather and 'guyliner', whatever that may be, do not seem to be doing the trick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Man

**Author's Note:**

> Early Season Four. Fic #03 of 03 written for LJ's tv_universe for the prompt, "dressed up" (change the look of a character.)
> 
> * * *

The haberdashery is located in what may perhaps be considered the seedier part of town, but the skill of the owner had been highly praised by one of the dwarves. Sleepy, he thinks. Or possibly Doc – he gets all those little fellows confused. Nevertheless, the recommendation had been seconded by the former bridge troll who does a lucrative trade in found bits and bobs on the boardwalk, and while neither the dwarf nor the erstwhile troll were exactly walking advertisements for chic and fashionable men's apparel, Killian finds that he is just desperate enough to heed their advice.

He needs to impress Emma, and leather and 'guyliner', whatever that may be, do not seem to be doing the trick.

The bell above the door tinkles when he pushes it open, and he hesitates in the entranceway until the curtain from the back room twitches and the owner of the shop emerges. She looks him up and down before stopping to rest her ample bulk against the counter, and Killian returns the open stare with one of his own.

"Well?" she snaps.

"Excuse me, have we met?" Killian asks. He gestures vaguely with his hook. "You look rather—"

"Muffet, tuffet, everyone knows the tale," the woman huffs. "Never mentions that I went back and squashed that damn spider six ways to Sunday, now does it?"

"I… see," Killian says. "I must say, the story never mentioned that you were... that you're rather... that is, they rather overemphasized your… littleness."

"You can say it. I'm fat!" Miss Muffet blurts out. "You got a problem with fat, pirate?"

Considering the Muffet clothing store is his last hope for acquiring an outfit to truly sway the lovely Miss Swan, Killian quickly decides that he does not, as a matter of fact, have any problem with fat. He tries on his most charming smile. "Not at all. More to love, as they say."

Muffet snorts but waves him inside. "What are you looking for today, pirate?"

"The name is Killian, not _pirate_ ," Killian grits out, "and I require a new outfit to—"

"Win the heart of fair maiden?"

"I see my tale precedes me, as well."

"Ain't nothin' secret in this town, _Killian_ ," the woman replies. "Gonna take her somewhere fancy, are ya?"

There seems no harm in revealing his destination to the old cow, so Killian nods. "The seafood restaurant on the pier," he confirms. 

"Plannin' on wining and dining her into your bed, I imagine," Miss Muffet says, and before he can take verbal umbrage to her crass assumption she is shaking her head and walking around him in a circle, tutting the whole while. "And you got to me just in time. Look at ya! What an outfit!"

He may be favouring the woman with his patronage, but Killian sees no need to be insulted. He glances down at his clothing, smoothes his good hand along the rich leather, and then lifts his chin. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, if you don't mind looking like a refugee from a Duran Duran music video," she cackles.

Killian blinks. "A… what?"

The woman laughs again. "Never mind, sunshine. You just come on with Miss Muffet. I'm gonna get you all fixed up. You're gonna look like a new man before I'm through with you."

* * *

There is entirely too much poking and prodding, and some measuring of the inner thigh area that seems utterly unnecessary, but within two hours he is fitted in a suit that Miss Muffet declares will have Emma swooning at his feet. He steps eagerly to the full-length mirror to see the results of her efforts, and feels the saliva in his mouth dry in dismay as he gazes upon himself. The grey wool fits him perfectly, and the purple shirt and matching tie do set off the thread in the garment nicely, but--

"I look like Rumplestiltskin," he gasps out.

Muffet reaches up to brush a stray piece of lint from his shoulder, then flicks a finger over his tie. "And just where do you think he gets his suits, may I ask?"

"Dolce and Gabanna, actually," Killian murmurs. "Occasionally someone called Canali. He namedrops regularly."

Miss Muffet snorts. "Well, if he came to me he'd get the same quality at one-eighth the price, mark my word."

Killian swallows dryly, tries to put the image of the malevolent crocodile out of his mind as he turns this way and that to get the full benefit of his reflection. He reaches up to make a minute correction in the set of his tie. On second look, it isn't as unpleasant as it first appeared. "I do pull it off with more… panache," he says. He meets Muffet's eyes in the mirror. "A devilishly charming allure, yes?"

The woman shrugs her hefty shoulders. "If you go for that sort of thing."

He turns to face her then, applies the full power of that charm and lifts a brow. "And what woman doesn't, pray tell?"

"The kind that drools over that Princess Aurora every time she goes sashaying down Main Street," Muffet says. "Now that's a fine woman."

"You…she… " Killian stops, stutters, waves a hand. "She's married!"

"Never stopped _you_ before, did it, pirate?" Muffet snorts. "Like you said, your tale precedes you. Besides, ain't no harm in lookin'."

Killian's eyes narrow. "You'd do well to watch what you say, woman," he warns. "Milah—"

"—is dead and gone two hundred years or more now, honey, and you're panting over Emma Swan like a dog in heat," Muffet cuts in. "And this," she indicates the suit with one chubby finger, "is going to have her slavering at your feet."

He holds his temper with an effort, slowly unclenches his fist. Milah will always be in his heart, but he must let her go – just a little – if he wants to find true love with the beauteous Miss Swan. Miss Muffet is not wrong in that regard. Still, he will not tolerate impertinence. "Your good service today will save you from my wrath, Mistress," he says slowly, "but I'd hold my tongue in the future, were I you."

"Uh huh," Muffet answers altogether too flippantly. Were she not a woman he would be tempted to show her exactly how he repays such disrespect, but he is gentleman enough to hold both his hand and his tongue. She claps her hands together, the sound a thunderclap in the small store. "And how will you be paying for my good service, Killian?"

"In trade," he answers promptly. He gestures to his hand. "I have this ring—"

Muffet slaps her fist against the sign propped by the register. "Cash, debit, credit card."

"Ah. Yes. I have none of those things, I'm afraid. But this ring--"

The woman's face contorts as she frowns, rounding on him. "How do you pay your rent? Buy your food?"

"I rely on the kindness of others," Killian says.

Muffet's eyes narrow.

"Occasional petty thievery?" he tries.

"Pirate!" Muffet bellows. 

Killian makes a mad dash for the door, easily evading her grasp. But even so, he is barely fast enough to escape the bowl of curds and whey she hurls at his head.


End file.
